Sunday, 29 April 2018

A Dragon Tale

The dragon lifted his iridescent green head, his scales glinting in the ambient light slanting into the mouth of the cave.  He could smell food approaching and he tilted his head, to better catch the sound of hooves on the mountain path.  A horse and a rider he’d guess, so he lumbered to the opening taking deep gulps of air to ready himself for expelling blasts of scorching, singeing flames.  Fucking knights!  If they wanted to prove how brave and macho they were, couldn’t they lead armies into battle or chop down trees or something?  Why did they all want to earn their stripes by trying to slay him?

As his eyes grew accustomed to the brightness he saw that the rider was female, for dismounting the horse made her beautiful red hair move in undulating waves.  The slender girl approached him tentatively, his nostrils flared as he took in the mixture of fragrances she gave off, identifying with pleasure the distinctive smell of fear and arousal as top notes.  Perhaps this would be sweet after all.

The princess cried and trembled very prettily when she explained the marriage deal her father had made with a prince from a coastal land.  She described his humped back, lazy eye and halitosis and the dragon laughed, a puff of smoke rising from his nostrils.  She spoke of the cold, icy climate where he lived and the diet of herring and pickled cabbage prevalent in his austere kingdom.  She was working towards the reason for her visit and the dragon,  while curious to know, did not want her to leave so soon.

“I want you to kidnap me!” her voice quavered while her pleading eyes swam with unshed tears.

“Are you crazy?  That would bring your father’s army up here to slay ME and rescue YOU!”

“You can fly can’t you?”  she sobbed, eyeing the leathery wings on the side of his body, much like a bat’s.  She was fascinated by the horns on his head and the furled strength in his reptilian body.  

He flexed his wings a little and inclined his head in the affirmative.  “I don’t see the relevance” he retorted in his low, rumbling voice.  As he spoke, she noticed his tongue had a fork to it.  He was her only hope of escape, stuck between a rock and a hard place.  The dragon might still devour her, but she sensed there was something less than predatory behind his eyes.

“You can swoop down and grab me,” her eyes slid nervously to his cruel, sharp talons, “and fly away with me.  We could land somewhere new, a lair they don’t know about.  We only have to be away a few months until the dust settles, then you can return to this cave.” She peered into the gloom, wondering if he actually slept on gold and jewels he’d accrued, “then I can start a new life.”

“What’s in it for me?” his deep voice reverberated in her bones: she felt it in her chest cavity and even her pelvis, and did her best to quell the sensation it awoke.  She didn’t have time for arousal right now, she was negotiating.

“I have a dowry.  A chest full of ceremonial items crafted from gold and silver and encrusted with precious stones, I’ll pay you with that.”

The dragon stayed silent. The princess’ scalp prickled with nerves, her nipples hardened and ached.  She tried not to look at his tail, ridged and muscled, which curled and thrashed while he pondered, reminding her of a tentacle.  She felt a clench in the pit of her stomach, warmth and seeping moisture gathering under her dress.  The princess pressed her thighs together, biting her lip to distract herself from her growing arousal, but the dragon’s refined sense of smell detected it, and he smiled to himself.  

“I will need to locate an alternative abode.  I shall scout out a cave and transfer my treasure there.  If I take you with me, you must do my bidding, I will avail myself of your services to clean and care for me.”

The princess gulped, but nodded, she was gripped with fear of this creature and yet something within her stirred at his proximity, his power and her vulnerability seemed a heady cocktail.

“The kidnap should happen on the first of May.  The maidens of our court will be out to meet the sunrise, making a ceremonial offering and washing our faces in the morning dew.  My costume will be a golden gown while the others will be in green, so I should be easy to see.  I will hide some clothes at the edge of the woods.”

They thrashed out a few more details : the princess and the dragon had a deal.  As he watched her straight back walking down the hill he salivated over the fun he imagined having with her.  The heat of the fire in his belly increased and his thrashing tail stiffened to a firm rod as he envisaged teaching her the ways he liked to play.

[To be continued … part 2 here part 3 here]

Saturday, 28 April 2018

Knowing Me, Knowing You - #SoSS

Welcome to another Saturday round up of 'Sh1t Sharing'!  It has been a great week for erotica to read, hey! I'm still working through all the #WickedWednesday, entries and the #MasturbationMonday meme had a bumper crop too!  I don't usually share photos in my round-up but there were many lovely & witty ones in this week's #SinfulSunday - you should check those out too.  I give below a few posts that made me (or my fanny) say "Hot Damn!"

More from Jacqueline Hyde


The other thing I usually do on a Saturday is interview a blogger who's come onto my radar and given me blogging-envy and inspiration, satisfaction or pause for thought.  This week it is my friend E.T. Costello (known also as Quill or Quiller).  This over-achiever writes poetry, sizzling hot erotica but also draws and paints (perhaps you've seen his recent homages to May_Moore,  ConfessHannah and Spymistress Posy!)  Prepare to be entertained by his self-effacing, honest answers.  

  • What made you decide to write a sex blog?

Mrs Q. It was my birthday and during work, I'd  been tormenting her with a series of episodes in a fantasy about her day at work in which she met her lover in the park and they titillated each other throughout the day and then fucked in his office and so on, and she said, "you know you should publish this, it's  so good!" So I did.

There's  a bit more to it than that, but initially it was a way of dealing with the my kink, which is bound up with Mrs Q and her dalliance, which I welcomed heartily, and needed an outlet for. We'd  had a go at poly, but it wasn't  for us, and this was a way of kicking on from the thrill and using  the stimulus creatively. I love her fiercely, and as things are developing,  it's far less about therapy and more about growth.

  • What's  behind the title of your blog and blogging name?

Hephaestus. That bit is easy. He was the broken down blacksmith-god married off to Aphrodite in order to avoid a war in Olympus over who might have her - and the fact that she didn't see it that way, being something of a strumpet. It seemed to fit. E. T. Costello developed out of a weird combination of:  a Nicholas Montsarrat novel, a dog, a favourite musician and another character I'd written IRL.

The Story of Esther Costello had a big effect on me when I read it aged 7 expecting something else. It's about cynicism and exploitation and power. I wasn't an easy kid after that. Then because of Esther, I got into Elvis Costello and then later on, when we were first married we had a dog called Elvis. We had the poor old bugger put down about two years ago now, and when I started writing, I wrote him into a YA story about the grail legends as a dogged detective called Costello. So looking for a nom de plume wasn't too hard. The rest of it is bound up in a nice broth of personal history and desire.

  • My blog in a nutshell:

An outlet for things I haven't properly articulated and a means for me to articulate them.
A mesh of ideas about sex and the other, woven into a tapestry I can't yet see.

  • How long have you been blogging on this theme?

Since March 17th this year. Most of the poetry was written prior, but all since roughly the same time last year. There was a day, sometime in April, when Mrs Q came home, wearing one of my favourite skirts, a tight pencil skirt, black, covered in jungle grass and flowers and parrots and macaws. She sat at the kitchen table for a bit while I made tea, and seemed distracted.
After about twenty minutes or so, she got up, smoothed the skirt and said:
"I'm going to lie down on the sofa."
As she left the kitchen, she sighed a little and said:
"I'm not wearing any knickers"

I followed her, of course, and knelt like a supplicant next to the sofa and worshipped her for a good, long while. It was a lovely start to spring. We carried on the same dance for about a fortnight, I think, until she plucked up courage to tell me about Him and what she wanted to do with Him, and what she had done. There, or thereabouts, is when I started to write, really write. It was impossible to articulate how I felt in ordinary prose. You know, among the discussions about household stuff, food and shopping and washing up and bloody laundry. So I wrote her poetry, to show her my love for her, and the dry-mouthed hotness of this idea, this alternate reality of her, my wife, having a lover. It was a rich damn’ time. We probably made love at least twice a day, and fucked a lot too, and it was hot and sunny and ace.
So it all started about then, really.

  • What is your favourite type of adult toy?

Now that's a good one. Easy, but hard. We're on our fourth (sixth, seventh? Who's counting?) Rabbit-analogue. Currently it's the straight up Lovehoney Jessica Rabbit and is affectionately known as the Pink Fuck Stick, which serves to illustrate it's  popularity don't you think?

However, we've  recently discovered the G-spot (I don't mean in the "Uh-huh honey that's nice" way, that was ages ago, but in the eargrabbing, hair pulling, thigh-pinching, bloodcurdling screams way) so the Lovemoiselle Aveline curvy ceramic dildo has been rediscovered too and is seeing some serious action, teamed up with the Bombshell Balm bullet vibe, which I sometimes also use, for a bit of a tickle. It's complicated, but really filling toys, with lots of reach are what’s doing it for us right now. I particularly like watching her use the PFS, but slowly rubbing the Aveline up the back of her thighs as she’s waking takes some beating too. Taking her from slow, quiet muttering to bent over, spread and snarling… Unnnnnngggff. As Eye might say.

  • Desert Island Toy?

That depends very much on whether it is I and Mrs Q, or I alone on this desert island! With Mrs Q - see above. Dildoing her on her knees in the evening surf would be lovely, I would imagine.

However, to maintain variety, I’ll assume a lonely marooning. While waiting for Gauguin’s temptresses to turn up clad only in the outrigger they’re sailing, I’d want to use my penis pump, I think. It’s a very generic beast, Lovehoney again. And I love it for solo play, especially if teamed up with some porn and the little bullet. But just that would be lovely I think. It’s difficult to describe what it does for me. The closest approach I think, is the way that Confess_Hannah describes the feeling of being filled, completely from both sides. It’s like that, but a mirror-image. It’s not just sucking. Its filling up, as if the edge of me and the beginning of heat and pulse and sex are completely blurred..

  • What’s your current sexuality?  At what age did you realise this was the right ‘fit’ for you?

God. So Cishet it hurts. Well, I guess I’m a bit kinkier these days, but straight up straight, frankly. I’ve always been fascinated by girls, and women. I remember being about five or six, and sitting in the back - the boot - of an estate car and thinking about the ways in which girls might be different. Specifically about what Chrissy Knock might have between her legs instead of a winky, and being abruptly startled by what happened to my winky when I did. School passed in a fug of the backs of girls’ knees and PE skirts and inexpert snogging in uncomfortable places. What education there was was principally gleaned from old creased copies of softporn mags found in bus-shelters and Shirley Conran’s Lace. The beauty with which she described bosoms and cocks and fucking in baths was in stark contrast to the male gaze of Men Only and helped me to be more inquisitive about female pleasure and desire.

I was pretty lucky in the women who showed me the way and once I got started had a pretty rich and varied sex-life. I don’t suppose though that I’d even considered the possibility of cheating that wasn’t cheating until I met Gisela, who had an earthy set of rules about what she considered fidelity to be. I don’t remember fantasies of swapping or sharing or cuckoldry - or whatever you call what it is that I like - with partners other than Mrs Q, but Gisela certainly made me realise that there were other ways. I’m not even counting the generic threesomes, invariably FFM, that populated the well-worn pages of 80s skin magazines.

I expect it was the internet that brought those ideas to me, which was about a year or two after we got married. There was a website called The Wetlands. Don’t know if it’s still around. Strapline “Where wives get naked”. In reality it was where wives got a thoroughly good seeing to from their husbands, each other, each other’s husbands and assorted bit players. If it hadn’t have been dial-up I might have been lost for ever. There is still a little clip going around, originally called “Scout in the Green Sweater”, where Scout is enthusiastically fucked over a kitchen table while wearing a big green turtle neck. All you see is her face while she comes and the sounds are wet and delightful. It was heady stuff.

About the same time, I left Mrs Q at a party and she came home very late full of contrition and desperately told me she was really sorry because she’d snogged the host when he walked her home. We reprised the Scout clip, immediately.  So that all became part of our ouevre, although purely as fantasy, occasionally enriched by Mrs Q having the odd bog-snog at parties. We discovered toys properly around ten years ago too and everything got a lot richer.

But I didn’t start thinking of myself as kinky until this year, really. And even that is pretty vanilla. Man wants wife to fuck other men, so far so mundane. I don’t think I need to join in, but I probably would. I like her telling me what she’s done, and I would love to watch. We’re constantly growing in all this, I think, and I’ve recently discovered that I want to be both spanker and spankee, so there’s a space to watch, if you like! Oddly enough, the opportunity for me to have a lover was given, and taken, but it didn’t work out. I just felt guilty. Mrs Q found it upsetting - and was upset that she did so, because it seemed hardly fair. So I couldn’t get into it, and I found that I felt guilty about not committing to the other woman. Complicated.

So there you are: Sexuality = Complicated Vanilla. Something like good organic vanilla ice-cream, with a smidgeon of chilli and chocolate. And good hard cheese.

  • Naked or dressed up for sex?

We usually end up completely naked if playing at home, although the undressing element is important, and a good impromptu session somewhere al fresco or out of the ordinary is generally clothed apart from the strategic removal (or tearing, oooooff) of items. I don’t think I have a preference as such, but the morning nakedness of Mrs Q takes some beating.

  • Is there a kink or fantasy you’re yearning to try?

We’re pretty on target for now, I think. We’ve just started fooling around with spanking and that’s oh-so-mmmmmmm - from both sides. We both like to spank and be spanked. We’re looking at getting a Doxy, and I’ve recently been getting some expert advice about glass dildos. I think I could easily get a little carried away by dildos. They’re sculpture, but filthy. I adore them. We could explore role-play a little further in the coming years I think, and possibly spouse-swapping, but I’m pretty damned sure it will always turn back to dildos!

  • Fictional being or species you'd like an encounter with?

Mermaids definitely. I’ve a thing for water-sprites in general. But there’s also a woman in an Ian M Banks novel, Consider Phlebas, who was completely covered in a very fine short fur, like hairy suede. I’d like to see that.

  • Anal Sex - Yay or Nay?

Pretty seasonal really. We go through passages of it, and sometimes it’s volcanically amazing, and sometimes its just, well, awkward. One session is up there in the Wank Bank Hall of Fame though. Both a little drunk, and Mrs Q was using the PFS (see above) and I was sliding along in the crease of her bottom, and I asked if I might, and she said yes and Lord! that was good. I could feel the PFS through her, buzzing against my cock. I was elated with filthy transgression for days.

Personally, I love a bit of anal play. Always have liked to tickle my bottom and I have tried slipping a bullet vibe up there and it was pretty damned incredible, especially pulling it out (it was on a cable, separate power pack - another Lovehoney job) at exactly the right moment. The O lasted for about a week, felt like, and I developed cramp in my right buttock during it. It was spectacular. But, I tickle my bum a lot, and I didn’t like how doing that changed it’s shape, it was - upsetting. Like when you’re favourite pants don’t fit anymore. So I stopped.

Together, we’ve explored this a bit too. Mrs Q may pop up a finger up there soon. I’ll report back.

  • Funny / Humorous sex anecdote to share?

Sure. On two occasions, I’ve sent partners off to A&E due to clumsiness during the, um, closing stages. A partner was on top and being especially filthy and I came so hard I sat up rather fast and headbutted her, not quite breaking her nose. The funny element was the ER nurse going, “a door, huh? You sure?” and giving me the evil eye.

Secondly, a different partner was giving me head and I came in her eye. That stuff is fast, and caustic. She had to wear an eyepatch. I still don’t know if eyepatches are sexy in their own right, or if I was just weirdly proud. I suppose neither of those things are really funny, though. The funniest sex-related thing EVER, though, was a party in Amsterdam where, at about 10pm long after everyone had forgotten about the kids, the seven year old boy and five year old daughter came bursting into the company shouting “Mummy! Mummy! Can we play with these rockets?” while brandishing a first edition Rampant Rabbit and something that looked like a sort of bulbous Thunderbirds ship!

  • Sexting - Love it or Hate it?

A definite love! Boundaries and so on can be easily misconstrued, but when it’s on.. oh yeah! I love it. I also really enjoy sending a well-weighted filth-bomb into somebody’s vanilla day, trying to turn them on at work is a big thing. And vice-versa. I once got a text of torn tights which had me blushing and rock hard in the middle of a very important meeting  Another time, Mrs Q was turning me on so much I made up some story about parental duty to sneak off from work. Which was bad enough but the HR manager gave me a lift home. So I could fuck my wife!

  • Favourite sexy mainstream film scene

Secretary. That scene where he’s spanking her over the desk and can’t help himself and comes on her bum. The expression on her face. I mean, the whole thing is absolutely lovely filth throughout, but as moments go. That’s brilliant.

  • Do you watch porn?

Yes. For years, in the same way that one might eat peanut butter straight from the jar. Of recent years I’ve become more discerning, but I still eat peanut butter.

  • Favourite Adult Film

I’m a fan of, and there are a couple - Hot Wife and Feet - which do good things to me. But for full spectrum ohmygoodness, it’s gotta be Erika Lust. There’s one - Horned Beasts - which is quite magically, balletically filthy, and I’m still not sure exactly what’s going on. Mainly because I tend to, um, miss the end. Ahem.

  • Adult blog You'd Recommend

So many, but for me, in among a pretty decent constellation of great, filthy writing there’s a standout author, who’s work simply astonishes me. Me, I just hurl words at the page and some of them stick and it’s OK. This woman, she uses words as if she’s building a rose out of the blades of scalpels. Each one carefully chosen, weighed, bent on a sand block with a tiny hammer. Only those found not wanting make it into her product, which is quite ringingly beautiful. You read her work, and you are changed. Seriously. She keeps her light under a bushel at
Prose is not an easy platform to navigate, but if you want to read stuff that sounds like it was written by the cut-glass love-child of Hemingway and Dorothy Parker, you need look no further.

Friday, 27 April 2018

Candy Kitten has Plans

One day this week it was #NationalLingerieDay and so my twitter feed was flooded with pictures of fellow bloggers modelling lovely lingerie.  I joined in too - posting these selfies.


Sporty Stripes

There were some fantastic shots of all body types in their underwear and many of those modelling shared notes on where the items could be bought.  One picture, however, caught not only my eye, but my imagination!

@CandysReviews posted a selfie which she told me hadn't made the cut for a recent #SinfulSunday,  but which had my mind racing, plotting a story about what had led up to that moment.  Candy has previewed my homage to her and has given her approval for me to post it:

"I honestly loved it!
I feel really honoured to have inspired such an awesome piece!! X"

Candy Kitten has Plans

It had been a long day and Candy planned to shuck off her work clothes and take a steamy shower, letting the pounding water droplets drum at the knots of muscle around her neck and shoulders, washing away the stresses of the day.  She wrapped herself in a towel (pink and fluffy of course!) and turned the water on, twisting her hair up and out of the way.

She soaped herself, massaging the trails of bubbles over her generous breasts and firm thighs, aware of a tingle building in her nipples as the jets of hot water beat down on them.  She used a soapy shower mit to rub the suds around, keeping her skin smooth and exfoliated, before allowing her teasing fingers to roam over her buttocks and labia as the water played over her sensuous curves.

The hot steamy shower made Candy feel relaxed yet enervated, blood flowed to her intimate places, plumping her nipples and warming her pussy, and erotic images began to dance through her subconscious.  What she needed now was a strong embrace and a firm hand, she wanted a take-charge lover to put her through her paces, to ride her hard and stable her while she was still damp!  She shivered at the thought of the raw animal sex she’d like to have as she stepped out of the shower and began to towel herself dry.  As she rubbed and buffed herself she noticed how her body readied itself for sex, and she smoothed a rich lotion into her skin, keeping her body soft and perfumed.

As she moved to the bedroom she was pleasantly surprised to see lingerie laid out on the bed, and a glass of wine on the bedside table.  She purred inside, realising that seduction was on his mind too.  He'd chosen one of her favourite lingerie sets, black lace adorned with pale pink ribbon: a bra which really hugged her voluptuous breasts and a hip enhancing girdle with suspenders.  

What made her pussy really slick was noticing he’d put out a new pale pink collar and the matching handcuffs - a gift he’d recently bought for her - claiming her as his baby girl, his plaything.  This would be her first time wearing them so she felt elated and nervous, wondering what sort of play he had planned.

She shrugged off the towel and tipped her breasts into the cups of the bra.  As she fastened the hooks and eyes behind her back she caught a glimpse in the mirror of the black satin cups shaping her boobs and holding them high, making pillowy mounds and a deep valley between.  Candy shimmied into the girdle and smoothed silky black stockings up her legs, the artwork on her thighs curled around her curves to give her outfit an edgy ‘bad girl’ look, which she knew he admired.

Next came the collar, and its soft pink leather caressed her neck as she fastened the buckle at the back, centring the heart-shaped link at the front.  He owned her when she wore this, she was his to command and control.  Yet the colour and the heart showed it was a relationship of love and trust, he’d never ask her to do anything she was uncomfortable with. 

Her pink hair fell to her shoulders, long enough for him to grab a handful and twist if he wanted to steer her slutty mouth to his cock or hold her while he took her doggy style.  Candy's nipples hardened to aching peaks when she remembered how it felt to surrender to his wishes, giving her body over to his pleasure.  Those were the times when she didn’t chase her own climax, or take any initiative, instead she gloried in being used as his fucktoy.  If his penetration bruised her or chafed her, if he took his pleasure and left her frustrated, she was satisfied by these raw acts.  To be fucked or to suck, to offer all her holes for him to rut into was her mission which she relished, because she felt power from driving him wild with desire.  When he couldn’t decide whether to spank her or kiss her, that's when Candy felt she’d truly triumphed.

She took some sips of wine, waiting for him to come back upstairs,  getting a slight buzz from it, her head felt pleasantly relaxed and hazy.  Finally she fastened a cuff firmly around each wrist - they were padded and smooth and her favourite baby pink - before using the clasp to join them both together, securing her wrists just a few, limiting inches apart.  

This was the way he found her, bound and dressed for his pleasure, when he entered the room.  Candy knelt  at the foot of the bed, wearing killer heels and the lazy smile of anticipated pleasure, awaiting his twisted plans for this evening’s play.

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Book Review : Millie

Millie by Hannah Lockhardt

Millie is a young girl on the brink of womanhood - and her particular passions seem to be swimming naked in the bay, imagining herself like a water nymph, and hoping that someone will see her wanton displays of nakedness or lewd behaviour and react positively to it.

The story is set back in time, I am not sure when, but in this era most people wear a lot of garments for swimming and don’t want others to see their bare skin (arms, ankles.decolletage) - Millie is different..  She likes to be free, comfortable, not hampered by clothes and she fights (in her own small way) against these conventions.

Her parents are monsters!  They don’t understand her, possibly they don’t even like her, so their plan is to get her married off (advantageously one assumes) as soon as possible.  To this end they move away from Miranda, the house on the bay which she loves, and into a town residence.  They take a holiday at a genteel seaside resort, Millie is presented at a party as a debutante.

Millie will not allow herself to be tamed, she appears compliant to her mother’s wishes, but this is for a quiet life.  She continues to gaze at her naked form in front of a mirror, imagining what the hands (and other parts) of a lover would do to her.  She swims naked, even though their hotel is in a much less secluded place than the bay where they used to live.  She displays herself at her bedroom window, longing to be seen but convinced she is not overlooked.  Millie fantasies and touches herself often, enjoying the results of  her stroking and probing.

What Millie does not expect is to meet a like-minded young man.  She comes into contact with red faced, clumsy, boorish boys attending the same dances as her, in search of prospective wives.  But is the man of her dreams, her fantasies, out there?  Someone who can embrace her more modern, ‘french’ attitude to sex, who will control her masterfully while allowing her to be a free, sexual spirit?   You will have to read Hannah’s novella to find out for yourself.

If you enjoy erotic interludes described with the gentility of times past;  if you are charmed by the slower pace of life, the constraints of social conventions in a bygone era, this book will appeal to you.  I have a passion for victorian erotica, so this book piqued my interest.  Following  one protagonist  rather than the frantic, sex obsessed behaviour and cast of characters found in most victorian stories, however, gave a gentler, more romantic tone to ‘Millie’.

Hannah Lockhardt or Other Hannah (@hannahlockhardt) as she is known on Twitter, is a writer to look out for.  This book, and others by Hannah, can be purchased from Amazon or any platform which sells e-books.  I was sent this novella to read and give an honest review, the opinion I state here is my own and unbiased.

Driving Lessons : Dark Days

Driving Lessons :  The #WickedWednesday prompt.  Hmm what can I say except that these were dark days for young Posy!

I am no great brain, yet I had always done quite well in class … but on the sports field, not so much.  It seems that I do something practical, physical the way I do it, and no amount of advice can help me correct bad technique.  I always assumed I had bad hand/eye coordination, and I’ve since found with things like aerobics, step, pilates, I have improved with regular practice.  My tennis, lacrosse, netball, 10 pin bowling do not get any better (or finessed) with practice, and I feared it would be the same when I learned to drive.

I started with high hopes, of course I did, but that first informal lesson, with my father in the family’s low-powered car, I couldn’t start the engine and flooded it with too much choke. We sat and waited for it to ‘recover’ but it didn’t bode well.  My dear old dad is not blessed with huge amounts of patience and I get panicky and tearful easily.  So after kangarooing horribly around the deserted commercial car park he suggested I take driving lessons.  Most of my friends could already drive, so no-one to recommended a good instructor, I found Dennis in the local paper.

Big mistake - this guy was old enough to BE my father but very skeevy!  His teeth and fingers were yellowed with nicotine and his hair was Brylcreemed back. He was, however, patient and he spoke kindly to me, he even rested his warm hand on my left leg to remind me which was the clutch foot and to go gently with it.  Soon we progressed to him picking me up outside work for a lesson in the rush hour traffic, I was dressed smartly as it was my first job and his hand really lingered, even wandered, on my thigh.  I wore stockings and suspenders (as that’s what my boyfriend and I preferred) and it seems Dennis liked it too.  It gave me the creeps so I tried to remember to wear smart trousers on driving lesson days.

My brother wanted to learn to drive so I recommended Dennis, and one day I happened to mention the way he rested his hand on my leg to remind me about clutch control.
“He does what?”  my burly brother stopped making his sandwich.  
I explained again.  “Doesn’t he do that to you?” 
“He most certainly doesn’t” came the furious reply.

No more lessons with Dennis then!  I later found out he’d left his wife and set up home with one of his pupils, who was about my age.  Young girls was obviously Dennis’ thing!

It was the 80’s - social constraints were not so tough then on male/female interaction.  One of my girlfriends had this happen.  On a summer’s day she wore a strappy top for her driving lesson.  She kept taking a hand off the wheel to put the strap back on her shoulders. Her instructor told her to pull over, went to the boot for some string and tied a loop round the straps of her top, fastening them at her back, so she wouldn’t keep fiddling with them!  I’m not sure he’d get away with that now, however well intentioned.

Onto my next instructor, let’s call him Trevor, He wasn’t too bad, fairly patient, very chatty but I think we talked too much to really concentrate on my technique (yep - I’m bad at multitasking that way!)  Any bad behaviour on his part was encouraged by me - he was divorcing and trying to get back into the dating scene so I’d encourage him to  talk about dates he’d been on and the Club 18-30 holiday he was planning that summer.  I was way too flirty, I skated on thin ice around dangerous subjects because (as you know from my blog) I love to talk about sex and relationships.  I liked thinking I was making him hot and uncomfortable.

He was my instructor for quite some time, I had a cancellation for snow, another for fog, 1 failed a test so I applied for another.  Trevor made the mistake of having a really critical rant at me on the morning of my test.  I’m sure it was a plan he’d calculated to make me pull my socks up and ‘really show him’ and it might have worked for lots of other personalities, but not mine.  I was so upset! I was a bag of nerves through the whole test, making stupid mistakes I’d never make in a driving lesson.  My mother had a go at him after the test and neither my brother nor I had any more lessons with Trevor (my brother took his test in my mother’s car and passed).

OK, maybe I didn’t need lessons, I had a boyfriend with a car, a sister with an old banger, lets try lots of practice with them!  Yikes!  My sister is NOT a calm person.  She had me jumpier than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs!  Another scary thing about driving with her was how bad the brakes on her car were!  Compared with the driving instructors’ new cars (with their dual braking system) it was terrifying to press my foot to the floor and not even feel a perceptible slowing down - perhaps my sister had a right to be so shrill!  

Driving with my boyfriend - hah!  He had a vested interest in me learning to drive … he wanted to be able to drink when we went out, so “Pass your test already!” was his mindset.  He was a mechanic (o yeah, you might remember him from a past story) so we had lots of cars to practice in, because he never kept a vehicle for very long!  As a novice driver, however, the last thing you want is to drive cars with stiff gearboxes, too much play in the steering or worn tyres - all problems he was going to sort out with each car before selling it on.  

He would start off calm and patient with me, but that would soon erode.  I would argue back (cos I’m bratty like that) so I can remember one journey out to a big shopping centre where I  drove with tears streaming down my face the whole way, totally upset and humiliated by his guidance/coaching technique.
“There you go!” he announced as we got out of the car, “I knew you could do it!  That’s the best you’ve ever driven.”  

Final driving instructor, let’s call him Bob.  Big gentle guy, shoehorned into a mini (lovely car to drive, you can see all around you like a greenhouse, no bits of the car are sticking out unseen, waiting for you to dink them when your reverse or park!)  Bob was also going through a divorce (I suspect being a driving instructor isn’t easy on a marriage) but totally chivalrous, patient and charming.  When I passed my test, he was truly elated for me and shyly asked if he could hug me!  What a gent, and his driving school is still going (I think that speaks volumes several decades later!)

I still wouldn’t describe myself as a great driver, but I get from A to B and I love the independence of it.  My OH has never had a problem with me driving the children around in my car, and they are precious cargos for sure!  I don’t much like motorways or London driving, and if we go abroad I avoid driving because I don’t trust my instincts at roundabouts - I fear I won’t be able to remember which side to give way to when I’m no longer driving on the left!

Sunday, 22 April 2018

Up-date on 30 Day Orgasm Fun!

Appropriate for #MasturbationMonday no?  An up-date on how my challenge is going!

Very well thank you!  Yes, after the moody PMT days when my libido upped and left, and it was very difficult to get myself 'near' the mood let alone in it,  I am having lots of fun.  Lots of satisfying, stomach spasming orgasms which I don't have to struggle and strain to achieve!  Woo Hoo!

Admittedly I have had days when, like Kayla Lords tweeted, I wanted to nurse my poor little clit afterwards and apologise to it - but it is her own fault, she likes it focused and a little bit rough!

 I'm having great results with my new lube Maximus - that was a great buy from Bondara - as many of my toys are silicone.

There has been good rotation of my toys, I've used the Tracey Cox G-spot vibrator and the Rocks off Bamboo, the Lovehoney jiggle balls and the Tracey Cox love egg.  I gave the Lovehoney mini wand another chance but used in combo with my Lovehoney textured glass dildo and that was eye-crossingly satisfying.  I've tried sitting and standing (I agree with May Moore - when you stand to have a wank, it feels a bit more like a 'knee-trembler' up against the wall!  very furtive and urgent!)

I've bought myself some new toys from Miss Jezebella who was having a spring clean so I'm looking forward to some nipple pinching fun and some double penetration, having decided I may be ready to go up a size with the butt plugs (perhaps a lovely cool metal or glass one - do I dare?)  Also, having read some of Emmeline Peaches' reviews, I suspect I'm a texture slut so I may need to order something deliciously bumpy and draggy from Bad Dragon!

I may share one more up-date  before this challenge is over, but right now I'm certainly getting to my happy place and building a better picture of my libido pattern.

Posy 💋

Nights in White Satin


Nights in White Satin

Nights in white satin

Never reaching the end
Letters I've written
Never meaning to send
Beauty I'd always missed

With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can't say any more

 I am not fishing for compliments, but the second verse rings true because I am more comfortable in my own skin nowadays than I ever was in my twenties and thirties (when had a better body).  This song has always been hauntingly appealing to me, initially because I thought it was about 'knights' - it has a very dreamy, lost love connotation.

Satin and silky underwear, what can I say?  It grazes my skin like a lover, hugging and skimming in equal measure.  It never fails to make me feel a more glamorous, seductive version of myself.

Kiss the lips to see who else is sinning this Sunday!

Saturday, 21 April 2018

Super Saturday! Lets Share ...

Hello all - Another lovely Saturday has rolled round and it's time for me to do my usual #SoSS round-up and share an interview with a blogger who is most likely already on your radar.

Erotic stories: (I can’t think which saucy mix inspired this tale / this artwork!! <wink>)

Erotic musings:

Sex Toy reviews:

Interview Spot:

eye shares such wonderful images and thoughts on her Twitter feed. If you want to know more about what makes her tick, read her candid interview here:

  • What made you decide to write a sex blog?

It seems a long time ago now, but I had been writing on Fetlife and had a good response.  Had been to Eroticon and made a bargain with myself that I would make sure that next time I went I would have set up a blog.  I am not sure it is a sex blog.  I don’t review toys and talk exclusively about sex but when the submissive part of me (eye) needed to find her voice it was through writing that she did it.

  • What’s behind the title of your blog or your blogging “name”?

eye is the name my Master gave me.  He called me eye and although it might seem strange it fitted me well.  I watch, observe and comment upon myself and others.  He saw that and named me it.  There were few options for domains and so cleareyedgirl was born.

  • Describe your blog in a nutshell:

Tales from the dark side, seen with a clear eye and told with a half grin.

  • How long have you been blogging on this theme?

3, nearly 4 years.

  • What’s your current sexuality?  At what age did you realise this was the right ‘fit’ for you?

I’d say baseline submissive with fluid and exploratory attraction patterns.  Bit of pain sluttery thrown in for good measure

  • What’s your preference - naked or “dressed up” for sex?  If dressed up, how so?

Nice lingerie is always a plus, hold ups are cool and I love a man in a suit.

  • Is there a kink or fantasy you’re yearning to try?

No, I am attracted to dynamics and energies.  It isn’t about who does what and puts what where, it is how we are connected when we do what we do, for me.

  • Anal sex - Meh or Yay?

Always yay!  Taboo, transgressive – one of my favourite memories was of being taken in the arse over a chair in front of a mirror and Him pulling up my head by my hair and saying:
“Look at you, look at what you are letting me do, look at what you have become.”  I was a wildeyed Jezebel and I loved it.

  • Sex needn’t always be serious - do you have a funny moment to share?

Of course, funny noises, crap at awkward times, gushing, nose dripping at entirely the wrong moment.  If you can’t laugh it isn’t fun, and it needs to be fun.

  • Sexting - love it or hate it?

Wouldn’t have met my M without it, so I love it.

  • Which mainstream film depicts your favourite erotic scene?

Eyes wide shut.  I love music and masks and ritual and secrets and Nicole Kidman, in particular the sexy scene with the soundtrack :   The ubiquitous Mr Ripley Dead can Dance.

  • Do you watch porn?  

Not really.  I was an anti porn kind of feminist before accepting my sexuality.  Prudish and very uptight about most aspects of sex.  It came with my religious background which was evangelical Christian and they are very anti sex.  So although I don’t have a problem with porn I wouldn’t watch it on my own and I haven’t had a relationship where it was a part of it.

  • Before you go, please tell us 1 adult blog (aside from yours) which we must add to our reading list:

I really enjoy May More’s  she’s a great writer and always has something of interest to say.

Mine is and I am @Masters_eye on twitter.  Catch you all there!

Thank you so much for sharing your more ‘private’ side with me and my Dark Darlings!

Wednesday, 18 April 2018

Fine Day for a Picnic

Originally this sexy adventure was written for Miss Jezebella to post on her site, but now the weather is hotting up, I felt it was time to share it from my blog too.  Hopefully Marie Rebelle will accept it for her #WickedWednesday meme.  Strictly speaking it doesn't mention this week's money prompt, but I think #pandering to Lucy's kink makes her feel like a million dollars!

Fine Day for a Picnic

The sun beat down - Lucy could feel it toasting the skin on her arms, making her pleasantly aware of each bit of skin it touched.  She felt tingles and heat which sank into her smooth flesh and heated her blood.  The skin on the back of her legs tightened slightly as it toasted under the yellow ball’s scorching glare, raising an undertone of coconut from the sun-lotion she wore.  She rubbed her legs lazily together, distributing the burn the sun imparted, and felt an answering throb between her legs.  Without fail, Lucy got horny when she sunbathed, and the heat and moisture was already starting to gather.

She luxuriated in the energising sensation of soaking up the sun and the joy of having the whole day to do as she pleased, no work ahead but still she’d woken at 7 to make the most of her day off.  She’d showered and washed her hair, shaved her legs so they were silky smooth then slathered herself with moisturising lotion.  Next she’d treated her feet to a cute, pale pink pedicure and left her long hair to dry naturally, Joe liked it down and loose - she was meeting him at 12 for a picnic.  

Now she was lying in the flat’s tiny garden, face down on a padded lounger, trying to top up her  tan.  A trickle of sweat took a teasingly slow route down from the nape of her neck into the dark valley between her breasts, the pillowy flesh there pressed together by her bikini top and her weight on them, yet she felt a tightening ache in her nipples. She hooked her fingers in the fabric at the back of her bikini bottoms, tugging it up between the fleshy orbs of her butt cheeks, she enjoyed the sensation of exposure, while wanting her tan to reach as high up her legs as possible.

Lying there, her head turned to one side, her dark, wrap-around sunglasses shielding her eyes from the bright glare, she wondered if any of her neighbours were home - perhaps the dark lean guy from the flat above who she’d never met but often saw coming home from a night shift just before she left for work.  She imagined him gazing between the gap in his blinds and being transfixed by her slender, toned body spread out for his lusty appreciation.  Would the sight of her exposed under-bottom get him hard?  Right now, was he releasing a yearning boner from his jockey shorts and stroking himself long and slow while watching her?  Would he want to drag up her bikini pants until they wedged tightly into her crack and parted her pussy lips?  Would he grab a handful of her hair, holding her in a  submissive stance while he jizzed over her bare back?  His hard erection gripped and choked to a messy climax.  She was so delighted with this fantasy she felt her pussy throb, getting increasingly warmer.  She gathered her hair up with her hands and drew it to one side and over her shoulder, pressing her thighs together, tilting her pelvis forward as she did, feeling her clit throb at being  trapped and squeezed within her juicy vulva.

Deciding to give anyone who cared to watch a good show, she turned over, making her movements slow and sensuous as a cat.  She wriggled around as if to get comfortable and smoothed her bikini top tightly over her luscious curves - the aching peaks of her hard nipples presenting themselves at the front of her costume.  She spread her legs apart till they rested on the outer frame of the lounger, her feet pointed daintily making her legs look long and lean and toned.  Lucy settled back into the striped canvas of the chair silently inviting anyone in the flats above to take a long lascivious look at her body.  She was happy to be admired, it fired the erotic fantasies she was having.

The sun beat down on her pussy, the mound of her pubis absorbed the warm rays and thrills travelled deep into the fleshy folds, where she knew the clear fluid of her arousal was gathering and moistening her gusset, quite possibly darkening the fabric with its presence.  Squinting down at herself through the lenses of her dark glasses she could see that the fabric clearly outlined her now-swollen labia - she was displaying her ‘camel toe’ but it felt good to be so horny and shameless.  

Lucy closed her eyes and let her consciousness drift, dozing a little, while her head filled with dark dreams of being tied up spread-eagled  over some kind of altar, at the mercy of priests in white robes who arranged religious objects and offerings to their deity on her naked flesh.  Entirely helpless to resist, and yet empowered by their fanatical admiration, Lucy became increasingly wet and aroused, dreaming they were impaling her with a golden sceptre, sliding it in and out of her hungry pussy lips, whilst chanting hysterically, while Lucy’s arousal built towards a heart thumping climax.  Lucy knew that she’d climaxed for real as the throbs and pulses worked in her pussy, and she waited for them to ebb away completely before she opened her eyes.

She reached under the lounger to grab her drink and gulped down several mouthfuls, the cool water blissfully soothing to her parched throat.  Next she squinted at the screen of her phone - yikes!  Joe would be round soon and she wanted to change into something pretty.  She folded up the lounger and propped it against the brick wall of her ground floor flat before lifting the patio door to go inside.  

There was no time to wash the slick off her lips, and clear strings of love juice twanged as she pulled her damp bikini panties away from the engorged lips of her vulva. She swiped her finger through the viscous substance and licked it with delight as she slipped into a fresh pair of tie-side bottoms, then shimmied into a black wrap-over sundress with spaghetti straps & a flirty flared skirt.  She put on gladiator sandals which laced high up her calves - not very practical for walking far but uber-sexy; laces and straps always made her feel like a slave or concubine!  She brushed out her long hair & applied lip gloss, ready just in time to hear the toot of Joe’s car horn outside.

Joe sat outside in a 2-seater sports car with the top down - as Lucy  came out of the building her grinned wolfishly and made an appreciative whistle.
“You like?”
She gave a slow twirl before moving to open the passenger door, he pulled his dark glasses onto his nose and she detected lust in his expression. 
 “Yes indeed!” His voice was deepened with desire so Lucy flashed a lot of thigh as she climbed into the low leather seat beside him.
She snaked her arms around his neck and they kissed deeply.  “Where are you taking me?”
“Wait & see,” he cautioned before putting the car in gear and speeding off on the road which led out of town.
Joe changed gear smoothly then rested a warm, possessive hand on her thigh, sliding it to hike the up fabric of her skirt, exposing her leg and panties.  She leaned back in her seat and squirmed towards his hand, knowing that when he cupped her pussy he would sense the warmth and dampness radiating out.
“Who’s been a naughty girl?” he asked, the growl in his voice causing an involuntary throb in her juicy pussy, while he worked his finger under the elastic and slipped it inside her as he drove.  
“I haven’t touched myself Sir,” Lucy wriggled with pleasure, “but I can’t help the pictures I get in my head.”

He continued to stroke and rub his finger inside her most delightfully, while steering the car one-handed, with skill.  Lucy meanwhile gave a breathy sigh and closed her eyes, letting her head fall back on the leather headrest and the sensations overwhelm her, pulling honey to the warm fleshy folds of her pussy.  He always had this effect on her, she became a boneless, compliant creature under his magic touch, losing her 21st century attitude of ‘independent woman’ to become his slave, a fuck toy to be played with in whatever manner gave him satisfaction.  He commanded that she must not touch herself or reach orgasm without his permission, and she followed his rules to the letter.  Somehow the limit on physical pleasure he imposed meant she thought about sex all the time, and consequently was ready to give and receive pleasure whenever Joe wanted it.  It also resulted in Lucy exuding a sexual self-awareness wherever she went, she often noticed men gazing at her with lust etched on their faces - sometimes Joe used this to demonstrate to Lucy how much she bowed to his control.  She dreaded and treasured these moments of humiliation in equal measure.

Lucy began to pant with building arousal but became aware the car was slowing down, Joe took his roving finger from inside her and changed down gears, bringing the car to a smooth stop under cover of some trees at the side of a country lane.  She opened her eyes and blinked in the harsh daylight, Joe slotted his finger in her mouth and she licked and sucked it clean, loving the spicy taste of her pussy while wishing it was his thick cock that she was fellating.

Lucy felt dreamy with lust and disassociated with reality, but she tried to snap back into the moment as Joe reached back for the picnic and opened his door.  Lucy swung her legs out of the car and felt him deliver a delightful stinging spank to her buttocks as she rose out of her seat.  She bit her bottom lip and treasured the heat and smarting sensation, then set off in pursuit of Joe’s strides along the footpath.  

The vista of swaying barley heads and butterflies in the leafy hedgerows was idyllic, the sun burned down from a bright blue sky.  They didn’t have to walk too far before they came to a stile which Joe helped her climb over, Lucy let her skirt hike up high knowing he was gazing at the black triangle of damp fabric covering her cunt.
“Are you horny baby?” He held both her hands and nuzzled at the fabric of her dress, biting at her nipples with his teeth, he tugged insistently on each hard nub and she groaned with the slight discomfort which shot pulses of lust direct to her pussy.
“What are you wearing?”  He parted the crossover neckline of her sundress and revealed that she was still wearing her black halterneck bikini top.  “This is typical of you slut, you want to flaunt yourself.”
Before Lucy could protest that she’d been in a rush to get ready, he pulled apart the two triangles that made up the bikini top, so that her breasts were bare.  Her small upturned mounds were whiter than the tanned skin around them and her aroused nipples brown and hard with desire.  He then loosened the tie at the side of her dress so that it gaped at the front, falling away from her breasts entirely.  Bending his head Joe bit and sucked on each nipple in turn, tormenting and teasing the responsive peaks of flesh until Lucy wanted to cry out with desire.

“Flaunt yourself, slut. I shall get pleasure from showing you off.”
Lucy trembled with humiliation.  Although nobody was on the path at present, it was a popular route as it led to the river bank; it was likely they would bump into other people and she knew she was forbidden to cover herself until Joe gave her permission.  She began to stride along, up ahead of him now, so he could enjoy the view of her curvy rear moving under her flimsy dress as well as the looks of surprise, from the jogger who passed and the man in a baseball cap whose 2 panting spaniels ran up ahead.

Soon they were at the river where there was a little more shade, Lucy had felt the midday sun burning on her breasts (unused as they were to total exposure) and looking  down she saw a pink flush on her skin.  She continued to walk but once they neared the shade of a few young trees with slim trunks, Joe suggested they stop and set out their picnic.  He spread out 2 rugs and patted one to indicate where she should sit, then he set about removing food from the cooler he’d brought.  There were small sandwiches,  squares of orange and yellow cheese, salad vegetables in individual containers alongside tikka spiced chicken, and skewered prawns with sun dried vegetables.  For dessert he had provided bowls of cherries, strawberries and sliced nectarines while to drink he’d brought sparkling water and a chilled white wine - she guessed Sancerre by the shape of the bottle.

Joe passed her a tumbler of wine with ice and she sipped appreciatively and nibbled on a brie sandwich.  He had gone back to normal ‘date’ behaviour and she soon forgot she was sitting there with her breasts on show while they chatted and laughed and fed each other delicious picnic food.  Lucy began to feel more relaxed as she drank the wine, but she could see herself reflected as 2 images on the blackened lenses of his sunglasses.  She liked how she looked with her nipples on display and she enjoyed the faint jiggle of the orbs of her tits as she moved, so very deliberately she began to let the cool, condensated side of her wine glass rest against her taut nipple.  It felt good and Lucy licked her lips and looked at Joe’s sunglasses, which hid his eyes.

“You like that?” he asked in a soft voice, Lucy just bit her lip and nodded.
Joe reached behind him and she heard the clink and tinkle as he rummaged in the ice cubes, drawing out a dripping handful and holding it against her other breast.  Lucy sucked in air, the cold wetness a shock, but was thrilled nonetheless by the ache and burn it produced in her teat which was now tightly clenched into a hard brown stalk of throbbing nerve endings.  The melt water dripped down her warm torso and she lowered her glass of wine, pleading with her eyes for ‘Sir’ to press the ice against her other breast too, which he did.  Lucy groaned with lust, she dropped her head back and parted her thighs, the pulse in her cunt had begun again and she wanted to be used by Joe, teased and punished, her true purpose being that of a sex toy for him to command and control.

He nibbled at the pulse point in her exposed neck, teeth grazing in a way which she knew would leave a bruise, he often marked her like this and she gloried in the bites as a sign of his love and possession.

“I purchased something with you in mind, my dirty girl.”  he growled, reaching into the ice container again.  This time when he turned he pulled her bikini top back over her tits but poured a few ice cubes into each triangle, so the cold lumps were held in place against her sensitive skin;  continuing the throbbing ache which made both her nipples and her pussy clench and tighten.  He rummaged deep in the cool box and pulled out a pair of black webbing and velcro straps which were joined with a metal clasp.  He attached a cuff strap round each of her wrists then undid the clasp, while drawing her arms backwards, he used the clasp to re-fasten them behind one of the slender trees.  

She was captive!  Sitting on her haunches her knees were already pulled slightly apart and now with the tree at her back and her arms straining but held in place, she felt exposed and unable to resist.   Fear and panic swirled around her mind, but was mixed with great excitement.  Lucy realised that Joe knew her better than she knew herself.  This was a fantasy she’d had since she was a child playing with the boys; she loved to be tied up, with no power to defend herself.  In those days it had resulted in stolen kisses but she remembered one boy had lifted her skirt to peek at her panties.  Today she both hoped, and understood, that Joe would take whatever he wanted from her, and she would love it and beg for more!

Joe drew her legs wide apart and moved the fabric of her dress completely out of the way so he could easily get at her pussy, raised as it was by her sitting on her heels.
“Someone’s excited,” he breathed deeply, and Lucy too caught a whiff of her arousal, that spicy scent that was musky and warm, unique to her.  He deftly untied the bikini bottoms on either side and pulled the fabric away, exposing her wet swollen cunt to his gaze.  Lucy too looked down in fascination at her juices glazing the naked lips and the protruding nub of her clitoris standing proud of her labia.
“What a lovely sight,” Joe admired her.  
Reaching again into the ice container he grasped a small lump which he stroked teasingly around the fleshy outer lips, Lucy groaned at the sensation, the piercing cold drawing a trail against her heated flesh, and the melt water running down her pussy in a tickling dribble which added to the general wetness which coated her inner thighs and dripped from the dark gap between her legs.

As Lucy struggled to keep silent and manage the pounding of her heart, which was making her feel both light headed and heavy-limbed,  Joe reached towards the picnic and selected a couple of slices of nectarine.  She watched as as he crushed and ground the soft, juicy fruit into the folds of her cunt, pressing and rubbing it against her eager clitoris, the fruit bruised and broke apart and the sticky fluids joined her own while she felt a tingle from the slight acidity.  Joe repeated his actions, pressing the slices of nectarine against her, using his fingers to push the pale orange pulp inside her a little way.

“Gotta get my five-a-day” he said (in reference to Government advice on fruit consumption) before he dipped his head to the fork between her thighs and began to lick and suck, eating her out with his lips and tongue.  He thrust his fingers in and out of her too, first one, then a second.  Lucy tried not to moan, her eyes were clenched tightly shut, her focus entirely on what Joe was doing with his mouth, taking her clitoris in and sucking hard to make the little bud swell and throb.  He licked and plundered with his fingers and sucked and nibbled  until she felt delirious with desire, colours bursting behind her eyelids and her pelvis thrusting forward to let him get as much access to her as possible.

Lucy’s breasts began to thaw a little, the ice was totally melted and her nipples throbbed and tingled deliciously as the numbness reduced.  She also became aware of the scrape of the bark at her back and the chafe of the coarse straps against her wrists.  She knew it was kinky, but she hoped the bindings would leave a mark, to remind her how her ‘master’ had bent her to his will.

“Bite me,” she moaned, twisting her wrists as if she wanted to escape her bonds.
At first he didn’t seem to hear her, his head buried deep between her thighs, he was working a third finger inside her while she bucked and thrust her pelvis, her climax building.
“Bite me, Sir,” she groaned louder and he looked up at her, licking his lips.
“Why not?” he smiled, fucking her harder with his hand, letting his thumb rub against her clitty while pumping in and out of her cunt with his fingers, so he latched his mouth onto her breast, on the inside of her cleavage, so if she wore a plunging bra his ‘brand’ would be clear for all to see.  He sucked long and hard, never stopping the movement of his fingers in and out of her pussy, which squelched with a moist sucking sound, and Lucy came.  Hard and long, with clenches and thrusts that washed over her in waves, she bucked into his hand like a bitch on heat. She thrilled to the pound and stretch of his strong fingers invading her pussy and the hard ache of the bruising bite he was making on her breast.

“YES! Yes!” she’d tried to stay quiet for too long and the words burst from her lips with enthusiasm, Lucy experienced the release of an earth shattering climax, always better when Sir had excited her but denied her release previously.

When he withdrew his hand, she moaned at her emptiness, but he crammed his fingers in her mouth and she sucked and licked them with enthusiasm, tasting a hint of nectarine juice along with her own lubrication.  With his free hand he undid his jeans to release his swollen cock.  She watched with delight as he got to his feet, her mouth was now level with his swollen member and she was allowed to take it and suck on it.  She stretched her mouth wide and let him sink the full length into her, tilting her head back against the tree and relaxing her throat.  Joe rested one hand on the trunk of the tree and the other to the side of her head and Lucy did her best to suck and lick him the way she knew he liked.  Having the tree trunk behind her head hindered a little, but she was able to slurp and lave with her tongue, her nose buried in the musky hair at his groin while he snagged his other hand in her hair.  Soon he wanted to hold her head still and thrust with his pelvis, effectively fucking her mouth.  Lucy to kept her throat relaxed, her teeth covered with her lips and created a tunnel for his cock, things were happening too fast for a strong suck to be achieved.  

Joe began to grunt and speed up his movements, then suddenly he pulled back, while proceeding to pump his member with his free hand.  He grunted as he jacked his hand back and forth, wanking a steady stream of cum over Lucy’s surprised face and chest.

“That’s my girl!” he laughed as he surveyed her dripping face, “swallow what you can!”  He hooked his finger and scooped a great glob from her neck and fed it into her mouth.  She sucked it up efficiently and licked away the sperm around her lips.
“Thank you Sir,” she said, as he had trained her.  “More please.”  So he scooped up more from her collarbone and dripped the viscous substance into her open, obedient mouth.

Further up the bank, on the opposite side, Lucy spotted a couple of fisherman arriving and depositing their landing gear and rods, ready for some sport.  They could probably see her and Joe, but he made no effort to release her from her bonds, in fact he left her sitting with her legs apart and decorated with cum while he tidied the picnic back into its respective containers then into the cool box.  He used one of the rugs to wipe most of his seed from her face, and then he kissed her deeply, as she sat, still tied to the tree.  She felt sure the men were casting curious looks in their direction, but she was still at Joe’s mercy.  At last he undid the clasp that held the wrist cuffs together behind her back and she was able to release her arms and rotate them to restore circulation.  He helped her to her feet and she felt the tingle of pins and needles as the blood flowed freely up and down her legs again.  

The moisture on her pussy was cooled now, and her back was a little sore from the scrape of the tree bark.  Lucy examined her wrists and saw that struggling in the cuffs had left raw red lines on each, then she tugged her bikini top back into place, admiring the blue and purple love bite Joe had made to mark her as his - it was a perfect ellipse where he had bitten and sucked - she felt a swell of pride.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he smiled, kissing Lucy tenderly on the lips.  “You did well today.  Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.  As a reward we can do anything you want this evening.  Watch a movie, binge on wine and chocolate, go for a fancy dinner?” he suggested, stroking her buttocks affectionately as they walked back to the car.

Sliding her eyes to the side, she admired his handsome profile and chose her words carefully.  “Punish me please Sir.  I want you to tie me up again and have your way with me.”